Thicker Than Blood
by blue assembly
Summary: When the world comes crashing at your feet, what do you do? You kill zombies with your best friend, that's what you do. [ Pewdiecry. T for violence and language. ]
1. Jumpscares

**Thicker Than Blood**

* * *

... "_Hey. Are you okay?"_

Silence filtered through the air as former-gamer Cryaotic sat beside his once-cooperative partner, Pewdiepie as he preferred to be called, and watched the latter with worried eyes. The brunette reached out with a hand and tenderly rested it on the shoulder of the taller blonde, who only shrugged it off and wiped ash away from his bloodied face.

"Couldn't be better," the usually cheerful gamer replied, "couldn't... Couldn't be better."

Cry bit his lip and glanced away, dropping his hand to press his palm against the cold texture of the concrete floor. "Well... Uh... I'm thinking we should get going soon, friend," he offered, giving the dark shed a quick once-over. "Before those things come back, you know?"

How long _had_ they been sitting in there, anyways? Two hours? Cry's legs itched to stretch, and he longed to find something to do other than keep his sore ass planted to an uncomfortable solid floor. Honestly, batting around a few zombies could be more entertaining than this.

Pewdie said nothing, and curled his thin legs into himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. His hair held thick gunk that could easily be described as corrupt zombie blood, and his clothes were stained with the same ugly liquid. His appearance was disheveled, apparel torn, scratches and bruises littering his frame. He looked absolutely helpless in Cry's eyes, the exact representation of an abused puppy. It made the brunette's heart ache.

"Aw Pewds," Cry whined, "we lost them hours ago, I bet they found someone else to chase after. We'll be fine!"

"What if it was Marzia?" Pewdie mumbled quietly, still keeping his gaze trained on the floor. "What if she's a zombie now, too?"

Cry opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again in thought. He'd never really considered the Italian girl till now, and mentally kicked himself for not realizing it sooner. He was worried about her. Of course. "Well... All the more reason to leave, right?" He replied.

Pewdie sucked on his lower lip for a moment, contemplating, before letting out a loud sigh and nodding slightly in agreement. "I... I guess," the blonde murmured, before slowly getting to his feet.

Cry followed quickly in tow, having to crane his head slightly to get a good look at his friend. Pewdie had a good head over Cry, but as far as health went, Cry certainly had the upper hand. Pewdie was so... _Skinny. _It could have to do with his height, but after Cry realized that Pewdie wasn't even that tall, he began to worry. How long had it been since the blonde actually got something nutritious to eat? Weeks?

" Maybe we could hit a gas station or something, find something to much on," the brunette said conversationally, obviously more upbeat now that he'd gotten the chance to move around. He strode over to the barred door of the shed and promptly lifted the large chunk wood away from the hooks, allowing the door to swing open freely. "I think I saw a Conoco on the way over here."

Pewdie followed after Cry, quiet shuffles sounding behind the shorter man. "I'm not hungry," he concluded.

"C'mon man, you _gotta_ be," Cry groaned with exasperation, nearly tripping on a rock that jutted out from the sidewalk.

"What do you mean?" Pewdie asked, his tone louder. "I ate a few hours ago."

Cry glanced back at the blonde, only to be met with a look filled with confusion. The brunette turned around to face Pewdie dead on, stopping in his tracks. The blonde mimicked his actions.

"Yeah, you ate a while ago. What was it, Pewds? Chips? How much have you even eaten today?" When there was nothing but silence, Cry continued. "Just _look_ at you, man. A fucking tree branch. A twig! I could step on your arm and it'd snap in half"- Cry made a gesture than resembled snapping a pencil-"just like that."

Pewdie's face contorted into what appeared to be a mild look of disgust, obviously insulted. His hazel eyes hardened. "I'm _fine_, okay? This stupid apocalypse thing's got me haywire, not to mention I pretty much just lost my girlfriend. How would you react? Badly. So leave me alone." And with that, Pewdie began to walk again, this time striding past Cry to storm down the street.

Cry instantly regretted his words, but chased after Pewdie. "No, no, you got it wrong! It's not... Bad, or anything, but don't neglect yourself over these things, we've got a lot to worry about right now and dying of hunger is pretty stupid, don't you think?"

"I'm not going to die," Pewdie scoffed, still upset.

Cry sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. It was hopeless, and with these ugly tar-spitting abominations running around, chiding his friend on his eating habits was definitely not the brightest of ideas.

It was a silent walk, with Pewdie stubbornly keeping himself ahead of Cry, and Cry watching his grime-covered converse chip away pieces of their muck with each step he took. The brunette thought on stomping his feet to get the rest to come off, before Pewdie stopped walking and caused Cry to near ram into him.

"We're at the Conoco," the blonde mumbled, stepping to the side to allow Cry to walk ahead.

'_Wow, surprising,'_ Cry mused, _Mr. Moody's finally calmed down.'_

Jogging up to the entrance of the abandoned building, Cry peered into the window. "It's too dark to see anything inside," Cry said, still cupping his hands around his the tops of his eyes to get a better look, "but I think we'll be okay."

Pewdie let out an uncertain grumble, and walked up beside Cry, squinting as he tried to get a good look. "You're right," he agreed, "let's just get in and get out. We only need a little bit of stuff anyways, right?"

"Right." Cry swallowed thickly and took a few steps back, turning to walk over towards the door. Reaching out, he grasped the handle unwillingly in his hand, pulling tentatively.

_Clink!_ The bells chimed as Cry puleld the rest of the door open, wafts of decaying flesh instantly snaking their way into his nose.

"God," he wheezed, coughing slightly before covering his nose with the bend of his arm. Taking a few steps inside, Cry held the door open for Pewdie, who was reluctant to follow. "It stinks," he warned.

Instantly Pewdie covered his face with his hand, using the other to grab the door and step inside. He made a sound that described his disgust, and looked around with watery eyes. "Just get everything we need so we can get out of here," the Swede said, voice muffled by his sleeve.

Cry nodded and took a few steps forward, eyes flitting around to catch anything imperishable. Twinkies, jerky, and cans of labeled food could be seen sitting untouched on the shelves, thin layers of dust decorating their tops. "I'll take as much as I can hold," Cry told Pewdie, and began to rob the gas station of its contents, grabbing everything he laid his eyes on.

Pewdie followed in suit, stuffing his arms full of jars and cans, before something on the other side of the shelf caused him to freeze. Eyes wide, Pewdie watched as the shelf rattled again, and some of the items shook loose and dropped to the floor.

"Pewds?" Cry asked from the other side of store, stopping to look at the blonde, "What are you doing over there?"

Pewdie said nothing, only sat like a deer in the headlights as he watched the shelves shake and shudder, a loud feral snarl in its wake.

"Pewds...?"

The one in question only began to back up, eyes wide as saucers, as a legless zombie army crawled its way around the corner, eyes a lifeless black. It's body was covered in fresh human blood, the color smearing onto the ground as it drug itself towards the blonde, painting the white tiles like a canvas. It let out a high-pitch cry, one that startled both men, and before anyone could see it, the abomination sped towards Pewdie with inhuman speed and encircled his calves, acting as a rope and hindering the blonde's movements.

Pewdie dropped to the floor and let out a pained yelp, struggling desperately to break free and trying to push the creatures' face away from his skin.

_"Pewds!"_

* * *

_(New multi-chap with a plot? I think yes~)_


	2. A New Start

**Thicker Than Blood**

_(I know, I know, I need to update other stuff, but this story's fun. xD Enjoy, ay~)_

_(__**GONEH: **__Here you go~ No more cliffhanger~)_

_(__**LyraHikaru: **__Continued! ^u^)_

_(__**BeautysHarlequin: **__You've been so nice. ;_; Thank you!)_

_(ONWARD)_

_VVVV_

* * *

Cry's blood ran cold as he watched the scene play out in front of him. Everything seemed to go by slowly, as if Pewdie and the zombie attached to his legs were somehow trapped in molasses. Cry didn't know how to react, his breathing cut short and his fists clenched as the abomination snarled and clawed at his friend, getting dangerously close to closing it's decaying jaws around the blonde's ankle.

"Cry! Cry, help!" The blonde screamed, hands pawing frantically at the monster. He'd managed to unhinge one of it's hands from his leg, but it retaliated and swung at Pewdie, successfully snagging on the blonde's flesh and causing it to break. Red oozed from the open wound, which only made the taller gamer more desperate, kicking and crying out in a frenzied panic. "Knulla! Please, Cry, _help me_!"

The brunette dizzily resurfaced back into reality, blinking rapidly as he became responsive again. "Hold on!" He told the blonde quickly, and scavenged the store for anything to use as a weapon, coming up empty handed. '_Fuck, what the hell do I do?'_ Cry thought frantically, continuing to rip the place apart in his search of a pipe, a bat, _anything _to get the cannibalistic.. _Thing_ off of his friend. '_Fuck this, kick it,' _he finally decided, giving up and sprinting back over towards the blonde. '_Kick it, kick it!'_ His mind commanded, and by reflex Cry did just that, sauntering over to the zombie and delivering a rather harsh, powerful kick.

Predictably, the monster groaned and flew back, successfully detaching itself from Pewdie's legs and allowing the frightened man to scramble and get to his feet. Unpleased, the creature charged quickly towards Cry, jowls gaping and ready to latch.

"Oh hell no!" The brunette hollered, striking the zombie in the middle of it's forehead just as it got into range.

It fell back once again, hissing in what was thought to be pain, allowing Cry his chance.

Advancing, Cry began to send the beast numeral amounts of kicks into it's temple, crunches and the wet squelch of rotten flesh rupturing resonating through the store. "No." Kick. "You." Kick. "Fucking." Kick. "_Don't!_" And with one last powerful blow, the zombie crumpled to the floor, a defeated whine escaping it's lips. "Son of a goddamn piece of shit, motherfucker came out of nowhere..." Cry rambled on, fear turning to anger within a moment's notice, and in an act of sudden rage, he began to kick the corpse again.

Pewdie stood shocked as he listened to his friend go on a rampage, stunned by Cry's wide and colorful vocabulary. He was sure some of his words he couldn't even understand, they sounded of another language that he wasn't acquainted with. German? Chinese? "Cry..?" He mumbled, flinching as the brunette pounded the zombie into mush. "Uh... Cr.. Cry?" He said again, louder this time, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Attention stolen, Cry whipped around to face Pewdie, eyebrows creased and lips pressed into a tight line. "What?" He spat.

"Well.. It just that, uhm.. It's dead, bro," he explained softly, sending small glances towards the mangled creature's body every now and then. Cry blinked.

"It is...? Oh.. Right, it is," he agreed slowly, unclenching his hands and backing up. '_Damn_,' he thought surprisedly, finally relaxing his facial features and calming down enough to get his thoughts straight. "I... Uh..." It was silent, before the shorter man burst into a fit of laughter, it's contagion enough to get Pewdie to join in. "Jesus! It's never gotten that bad before," he explained through chortles.

Pewdie giggled along, though he was still slightly shaken. "Well at least I know who to call the next time someone tries to eat me," he snickered.

Cry let out a small 'You bet, sir', and stifled his laughter to a few chuckles here and there. "Ahh.." He finally let out a satisfied sigh, wiping at non-existent tears. "As long as you're okay, I'll gladly beat the life out of any zombie for you," he said cheekily, smile lighting up his face.

Pewdie reacted to this, his cheeks growing slightly rosy. "Good to hear, bro," he said, and if Cry didn't know any better, he'd of detected a hint of nervousness in the taller man's voice.

It took a moment for Cry's words to dawn on him, but as soon as they did, the brunette's face heated up considerably. "Yeah, so, uh," he changed the topic quickly, casting his gaze towards the gash above Pewdie's right knee. "We should probably clean that, before you get infected," he said, worry lacing his tone.

The blonde glanced down and lifted his leg for a better view of the cut, raising his eyebrows in mild shock. "Oh wow," he commented, angling the scratch as he observed it, "I didn't know it was that deep."

"What if you.." Cry bit his lip, suddenly deep in thought. '_'If they claw you, you still turn, don't you? What if he changes?'_

Pewdie tilted his head at Cry (which the brunette found cute... Though he'd never admit it), and dropped his leg back towards the ground. "Yeah?"

"What if that... Gets.. Infected?" Cry asked, biting the inside of his cheek. He'd remembered in games and shows that if you got scratched, you were done for. "What if you end up like him..?" He shrugged over towards the zombie's body.

Pewdie remained quiet, as if deep in thought. He nibbled his bottom lip, glanced down at his leg, and finally looked up to meet Cry's eyes with his own. "Don't worry about it Cry," he said, a smile returning to his face. "I'm sure if we clean it, I'll be okay. You only get infected like that if you get bitten. And it didn't bite me, so it's all cool," he said in a goofy way, succeeding in easing up the brunette's nerves.

"You're right," Cry agreed, feeling a weight seemingly disappear from his back. "But we better clean that thing up or else you'll get a nasty infection going on there, man," he suggested, eyeing the bleeding wound with a worried expression.

"Sounds good bro," Pewdie agreed, and looked around. He seemed so much more at ease after that incident, it was as if... The old Pewdie came back. Cry was delighted.

"You seem a lot better," Cry noted, "I missed you!" He dramatically ran over and flung himself on the taller blonde, who only laughed and shoved him off.

"I never left," Pewdie snickered, that same pretty pink returning to his face. Cry reveled in it.

"Sure, okay," he said disbelievingly, a smile playing at his lips. It was true though, this was the most he's gotten out of his poor friend in five days, and this... This was a victory in itself, right here.

The Swede bent down and began re-gathering his items, stuffing his arms full with as much as he could. He seemed to favor the canned sweetened peaches a lot more than the greens, which was okay in Cry's mind; he was never a healthy eater after all.

Joining in, Cry helped wrangle as much consumables as he could, and searched the store for something to store the goods in. "I think there's some plastic bags back here," he told Pewdie, beginning to carefully make his way to the check-out counter. No bags... But a fresh dead body was definitely present. Bile rose in the brunette's throat, and he was compelled to turn his head away, only to be distracted by the glint of something on the dead employee's belt loop.

Keys.

Interest piqued, Cry began to slowly make his way towards the corpse, setting down his armfuls of items as he did so. Keys to what? A car? '_That could be extremely useful by this point,_' Cry mused, and with the speed of a sloth, he squatted beside the lifeless body and flexed his fingers, anxious to grab the keys. Should he? Would it come alive and try to eat him, too? '_Just grab them_,' he ushered himself, and reaching out with deliberate slowness, he managed to hook his fingers around the ring that held the keys to the dead man's belt loop. Slowly, he unclasped the hook and gingerly pulled the jingling keys free, cursing under his breath as they made more noise than they should have.

Silence followed after, and standing up, Cry smiled as he mentally whooped a small '_Success!_' and clinched the keys onto his own jeans. '_Better look around and see what they go to,_' he thought as he bent to gather his bounty once again, beginning to make his way back towards his friend at the front of the store.

As he came into view, Cry noticed that Pewdie was sitting in the windowsill poking at his wound, frowning like a child as he did so. He managed to make it bleed again, although this time the blood was a darker shade of crimson. Cry tried not to notice. "Hey!"

Startled, Pewdie stopped irritating his gash at once and awkwardly stood up, scratching at the back of his head. "Oh, sorry," he said sheepishly, looking down to meet Cry's eyes. "I think the dust is getting into it, it's starting to already look like it's getting gross. See?" He walked towards Cry and thrust his knee out, effectively grossing the shorter man out and causing him to back up with a turned up face.

"Yeaaah, I don't need to see it, I'll take your word for it," he said, his tone hinting his displeasure of having a bloody cut in his face. Cry, always the queasy one. "I found some keys back there, I think one goes to a car, the rest I'm not sure." Cry gestured with his head towards the keys that hung on his jeans. "So the faster we leave, the quicker I can clean that up for you."

Pewdie snorted but bundled up his own pile of food. "Whatever, bro," he replied.

**[][][][]**

It was a long thirty minutes of wandering around the abandoned gas station before any discoveries were ever made.

Cry hand found a long, ramrod-straight road that could've led for miles, a forest, and by some miracle, tire tracks embedded in the dirt. He followed them for a while, skeptic of ever finding anything since his luck was on a constant downhill streak, and kept himself from hoping too much. After all, the car could've been destroyed if it'd crashed here in the forest, couldn't it? _'Yes,'_ Cry's mind stated firmly, _'so don't get your hopes up.'_

It could've been hours before he spotted it, but the sudden reflection of light piercing through the brunette's eyes told him that something shiny in the reeds was coming up close. The tire tracks were more prominent now, spiraling in donuts as he came up on a sliver of gray peeking through the tall swamp grass.

Reaching out, Cry's mood skyrocketed with relief and hope as he pulled back the weeds to reveal a gloomy-colored Ford Fiesta in pretty bad condition. It was dented and the grills were caked with blood, but otherwise it was a pretty nice car... Though it wasn't one that Cry would've chosen if he had the chance. But still. It was a _car._ God must've not hated him.

Cry reached to pull at the driver's seat door, pleased to see that he didn't need to unlock anything to open it up. He swiftly climbed inside, shut the door, and began to sift through the keys, eager to find the right one and drive back to retrieve his cute little blonde friend-

Wait. Cute? _Cute?_ Pewdiepie wasn't cute. Certainly not to Cry at least. Yeah. Not at all.

... God, how much longer would it be before he finally accepted his boy-crush? Pewdie still wanted to find Marzia, right? His girlfriend. _Girlfriend._ That was enough to tell Cry that it wasn't worth trying to pursue the other gamer in a romantic away. After all, he was straight, right? And the rejection could damage his mental state even more than it already was, which wasn't ever good, especially not in the middle of a damn apocalypse.

Apparently Cry had finally found the right key, and jammed it into the holder, watching as the lights in the vehicle brightened. _'Thank God it still works,_' Cry thought, and turned the key in the ignition, making the car roar to life smoothly. It had a nice purr to it, he had to admit, and shifting into reverse, Cry began to wonder if this was the sort of car Pewds would like. Something cute, quick, easy to get attached to-

With a sigh, Cry clutched the steering wheel as he pulled out of the forest, careful not to hit any sink holes. This was going to be a long few weeks ahead, he just knew it.

But... At least he got to spend it with Pewds. Just the two of them. Alone. Together.

'_Well, fuck.'_

* * *

_(Hope this was okay! More Pewdiecry in the future~ Winkwinknudgenudge~~~)_

_(Also the plot thickens with drama, feels, and romance a'course. -insert wink here-)_


	3. Out On The Road

_Oh wow, reviews. xD_

_Beep boop, new (late) chapter. Also, would anyone be interested in a L4D2 fic? It'll either be Ellis x Hunter or Ellis x Nick, and... smutty. Or Pewdiecry smut. I feel sassy~_

* * *

The drive back was agonizing, if Cry had any word to say. The air conditioning didn't work, the radio was pure static, and to make things worse a few flies managed to find their way inside the car and refuse to get out. He opted to swat them, but that could interfere with his concentration on driving; he was never really good at steering, as it was.

The car was jerky and horrible to maneuver, the brunette soon realized. The brakes were touchy, the wheel was pretty much locked up, and he was running on fumes by this point. Every now and then, the vehicle had a way of releasing gears and slowing down before picking up again, much to Cry's chagrin. How to could such a new car be so difficult to manage?

Just because of these reasons, it took Cry a good twenty-four minutes to just get back on the main road. He could already feel that hot temper start to spur just beneath his skin, and quite frankly, the thought of it pissed him off even more. Nothing like a sassy car to get you worked up again, he mused, nothing like it at all.

By the time he'd reached the gas station, Pewdie was already up and strolling over quickly to the passenger side of the Ford. He tapped the glass and cast a glance towards the trunk, one arm supporting a fair amount of food. With a sigh, Cry opened the car door and stepped out, deciding it'd be easier to help the Swede pick things up faster.

Curtly strolling over to the collective pile on the ground, Cry bundled as much as he could and turned around, nearly colliding with his friend's chest as he stared up at the blonde with irritated eyes and slightly flushed face.

"Sorry bro," Pewdie chuckled, "it's just so hard to see you; you're so short!"

Oh, he _really_ knew how to get under the brunette's skin.

Brushing past him, Cry made quick work of stocking up the trunk with what he thought was most of the food; Pewdie collecting the rest and fitting them in tight notches. Cry had some trouble closing the trunk, but once he did so, he turned briskly and made to get settled back into the car.

Pewdie was short to follow, opening the door and unsurely sitting in the faux leather seat. Cry should've mentioned it stunk pretty bad inside, but judging by the look on the blonde's face he could already tell it was too late to warn him.

"Where will we be going now?" The taller man asked, turning to give his shorter companion a quick once over. He scowled as he noted Cry's hardened facial features.

There was a beat of silence. "I don't know."

"But what're we gonna do with nowhere to go?"

"I don't know."

"But how are we-"

"I don't _know,_ okay?" Cry snapped, temper bubbling over the edge.

Pewdie flinched down, his face holding an expression one could only describe a guilt. Turning his head, he shrunk a bit in his seat and briefly set his attention on the passing landscapes, the brown grass and gray skies.

Cry sighed, suddenly regretting his words. "Look, man. I'm sorry. It's just this car's a piece of shit, there bugs everywhere, no conditioning, zombies around every damn _rock_ and now I've gotta deal with forgetting to fill up the gas tank before leaving the station. Which is great. Juuust perfect." He bit his lip, thinking that admitting these things would ease his anger, yet only served to fluster him more. _And don't forget being gay for your possibly only non-infected friend left, wouldn't wanna leave that out._

"Hey bro, it's okay. I bet there's a town not too far up ahead. I've been around these parts of America before, remember?" Pewdie grinned, smile visible even to the brunette who was currently deeply focused on the road.

"These specific parts?" Cry asked skeptically, glancing over to look at his friend for a half of a second.

There was a pause that told Cry of Pewdie's uncertainty. "Yeah, of course," he finally replied, voice confident. "When I drove out around here for a good view. I love visiting these places."

Cry chewed his bottom lip, hands still gripping the wheel tightly. He laughed after a moment, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Alright, fine. I'll believe you."

The conversation then morphed into idle chatter about life and video games, how they'll never be able to upload their most recent videos, and little but interesting things.

Not even an hour later, the car began to sputter.

Cry grimaced and tried his best to pass it off as the little vehicle acting up again, but a swift glance to the fuel gauge told Cry all the information he needed to know.

Pewdie only gazed out the window, hardly noticing the suddenly slowed motion of the tiny car till it began lurching forward one foot at a time, motor protesting and groaning angrily, before finally dying out with one last kick.

The two sat in silence, one surprised while the other slunk down in distress.

"Now what?" The brunette hissed, kicking the underside of the car. "We have too much stuff to carry on foot, what do we do now?" As his stress and anger built back up for the umpteenth time that day, Cry felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Never, _ever_ had he felt so useless as he did in that moment.

Pewdie was one step ahead, though. Turning, the Swede smiled reassuringly at the brunette and reached out to ruffled his already messy brown hair. "Don't worry about it, Cry," he snickered, and opened the car door as he jumped out.

Sighing (though feeling slightly better with Pewdie's unexpected touch), Cry turned to watch the tall blonde stroll a few steps and open up the backseat. Reaching inside he rummaged around, before finally pulling up to present Cry several large market bags. Cry instantly lit up. "Where did you find those?"

Pewdie shrugged. "While you were out finding the car I kinda looked around for some. Put them back here while we were loading the stuff up." He grinned.

Cry smiled back, and unbuckled his seat belt as he quickly hopped out of the car. He opened up the trunk and helped pack the bags with food and, though they were heavy, were a huge convenience for both men.

As they set out on the road, Cry let his mind wander. The thought of having to travel for hours on foot put a bad taste in the brunette's mouth, carrying heavy bags no less. It was as if the world was trying to strike him and Pewds down, and he wasn't going to have it. He made it this far, no turning back. No sitting around waiting for mindless cannibals to come eat them both up. He was going to survive this, dammit!

His newly-discovered vigor made the gamer speed up with his walking, but he let out a small sigh as he returned back to his usual slow pace. Better not risk tiring himself out with his pride.

It was long, unbearable walk.

Cry had to suppress a hiss as he dropped the bags of food to the ground, his arms aching and throbbing from at least five hours of nonstop use.

Around late evening Pewdie managed to spot an old cottage-esque cabin far off the road, pointing it out with inspiring enthusiasm and beckoned for Cry to follow him as he leapt off into the cat-tails and squishy swamp muck. Although utterly mortified, Cry followed after him and whined a small 'Ew' with each step he had taken to get there.

Now, standing in front of the abandoned structure, Cry realized it wasn't all that awful for a swamp shack. The inside had one kitchen, one bathroom and two small beds; both looking strangely proper and clean. The tap worked fine and the shower even ran hot water. But the best part was that it was untouched. _Unseen._

The thought of a good night's rest without any worry was enough to get the brunette to grab his load of food and lug it into the house, dropping it on the small kitchen counter and letting out a large sigh of relief. It'd been so long since he was able to see anything unstained with blood or decaying bodies strewn about.

Pewdie marched out of the bathroom then, smiling in his cute way. "The water runs nicely, so if you need a shower go ahead and take one bro."

Cry couldn't help but consider it. "Maybe later on tomorrow," he agreed, and turned around to fish out a few cans of raviolis for the two of them. He tossed one can to the Swede, who hadn't been expecting it and instantly smacked it away with startled hand. "You're supposed to catch it, man!" He laughed.

Pewdie flushed from embarrassment and scoffed, bending over to pick the can up. "Warn me first, bro," he chuckled a bit himself, and read over the label. "Is this a worldwide brand?" He suddenly asked.

"What? I don't know. Don't you ever look on the shelves at your grocery stores in Italy and Sweden?"

Pewdie shrugged. "I never usually eat this stuff," he replied, and pulled at the tab on the top of the can. "I usually just ate whatever Marzia would cook me, I didn't actually look."

The mention of Pewdie's girlfriend made the brunette sigh and pick at the seal of his own can. "Yeah," he replied half-assedly. Appetite not yet all the way there, he set the food back in the bag, deciding to eat in the morning instead.

Pewdie used the can like a bottle in most cases, not wanting to use his fingers as forks. What he couldn't shake out he just left there, and placed his trash on the nightstand beside his claimed bed. "Want me to take guard duty tonight?" He yawned, stretching up and above his head. Cry watched a sliver of skin show, before quickly averting his eyes as to not cause any suspicion.

"Nah, I got it. You get some rest," was Cry's lofty reply.

Though most likely wanting to protest, Pewdie only nodded with a sleepy expression and plopped down onto what was thought to be a stiff mattress, eyes slipping closed as he passed out easily.

Cry only smiled and shook his head, stepping out into the chilly night air. The wind nipped and bit at his skin, but it was nice change from the day's hot and sticky weather.

Looking back into the cottage, Cry let out a small sigh as he watched the tall blonde curl up on the mattress. He was so _cute_ sometimes, it honestly got to the shorter brunette. It was a shame he'd never get a chance though.

_'You'll get him sometime. You just need to give little hints is all. Stop pulling an awkward turtle,' _his mind encouraged.

Cry's eyelids drooped as he rested his chin in his palm, propping his elbow up on a small table just outside. '_I'll try it tomorrow then,'_ he dealed with himself, '_and just see how far I'll be able to go without him getting suspicious.'_

* * *

_Hmm, suggestions for the plot? Maybe they're saved at some point? Lol idk_

_Reviews are love~_


	4. How Could You?

**Thicker Than Blood**

_Sorry for the delay! Ahh, but thanks for all the reviews and ideas!_

_Here you go, and enjoy~_

* * *

Cry woke up around mid-morning, back aching and neck stiff. With an unhappy groan, the brunette slowly peeled himself off of the table, grimacing as his cheek stuck painfully to the yellowed glass due to drooling on himself overnight.

He never meant to fall asleep. He really, really didn't. Jolting up, Cry flinched and squeezed his eyes shut as the crick in his neck throbbed in discomfort. What if the zombies got Pewdie in the night? Oh god, he'd never forgive himself. He'd probably give up at that point, throw himself out for the undead to eat. There was a town not too far off, maybe it was infested-

A loud, happy laugh erupted from inside the cabin, making fear erupt in Cry's stomach almost painfully. Clenching his fists tight enough to make his palms bleed, Cry opened his mouth and let a tiny, anxious "Pewds?" slip out.

Silence. There was a slight shuffle, the muted sound of feet padding across the ground, before a head of sandy-blonde hair popped out of the entrance. Pewdie looked over his friend for a moment, before grinning brightly and stepping out of the house. "Cry!" He exclaimed, and walked over to the still-sitting man. "It's great you're awake, bro! You won't _believe_ what I found!"

Cry bit his lip, flickering his gaze over Pewdie's features. He watched as those blue eyes filled with nothing but excitement, and eventually sighed with a tiny grin of his own. "What is it?"

Pewdie laughed. "You'll have to see for yourself! You're gonna like it!" He leaned over and lightly shook Cry's shoulder, effectively waking his friend up some. "Come on, man, let's not burn time. We have to leave in a few hours too if we're going to make it to Tallahassee in time."

Cry drew a blank. "Wha... Tallahassee? What's there?" Pure confusion shown through the brunette's voice, making Pewdie blink a few times before finally coming to realization.

"Oh!" He ran a hand through his hair, taking a few steps back. "That's why I need you to come see this, bro. It's so awesome! The gang's all here, now." The wide smile on Pewdie's face made Cry suddenly feel uncomfortable. The blonde spun on his heels and dashed into the cabin, calling a brief "Come on!" over his shoulder.

Cry blinked. What? Did he find a map or something? Survival schedule? Pushing the chair back, Cry slowly got to his feet, head swimming for a moment. He slowly ambled towards the open door, reaching out to grasp the frame as to not become too dizzy. "Pewds," the brunette muttered, "can you get me the pasta from yesterday? I'm planning on-" As his eyes crossed over the 'surprise', Cry fell short.

There, sitting beside the Swede, was the one and only Ken. He'd been gazing at Cry ever since he appeared in the doorway, and noticing he caught the other man's eye, smiled at him in a friendly way. "Ryan!" He said, as though he hadn't seen Cry for years. "Man, it's great you're alive too! Pewds has been trying to get me to come wake you up all morning." He laughed, but it was clipped. Polite.

Though he was shocked, Cry forced a small smile himself. "Hey," was all he could manage, giving the bigger man a quick once-over. He noted that the other gamer had regrown his beard, and had managed to sprout a few more feet; which confused the brunette immensely. _'Has it really been that long?'_

Pewdie was the one to break the silence. "He's coming too, right?" He questioned, tone relaxed. As if he didn't really need to ask.

Ken froze, eyeing Cry for a moment. "Uh... Yeah.. Why not?" He laughed, a small attempt to cover up his strange behavior. "Plus, we need _a lot_ of time to catch up. The drive'll be quite a while, so it gives plenty of bonding time." He grinned.

"You have a car?" Cry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Before the other brunette could answer, Pewdie leapt to his feet and dashed over to Cry. "Yeah! You gotta see it, it's awesome!" He shot an long arm out and grabbed Cry's wrist, before tugging him along out the door. They stumbled through the weeds for a bit, before the black glint of a car peeked through the tall foliage. Once finally revealing the vehicle, Pewdie let go of Cry and walked over to sit on the hood of the car. "Tada! Sexy, ain't it?"

Cry took in the sight of the 1969 Camaro. It was rather new looking, despite the blood spattering the lower half of the car; as well as covering the wheels. It was black in color, no gloss coat, a perfect rendition of the beastly car it was in its time. Despite not liking older car models, Cry had to admire it. After all, where else were they going to see one again?

"It's pretty sick, dude," he agreed.

Ken appeared shortly, meandering through the thick plants and mud. "Yup! Been staying here for at least three weeks now. Didn't want to leave, but there's a shelter at the airport in Tallahassee. Says nobody's been infected there, and flights to Germany are going to open up soon because apparently they've got a cure." He stopped somewhat close to Pewdie, watching Cry with an unreadable expression as the brunette sat on the hood of the car now instead of the blonde. "Hey, Ryan. Mind not doing that? I wanna keep the thing in good condition."

Cry's lips drew a tight line at the rather snappy comment. Slowly, the shorter man got to his feet, careful not to drag along the paint of the car. "Sorry," was his curt reply.

Ken said nothing in response, only turning to the tall Swede with a light smile. "Hey, when we get to Germany, we can go visit those pubs they've got! I read about this one that you can _swim_ to the bar table in. Sounds awesome, right?"

Pewdie laughed, and shook his head a bit. "It sounds good, but I don't think Cry drinks that much. Right?" The blonde turned to look at his friend, blue eyes innocent.

Cry felt a wave of smug hopefulness ripple through him, and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that."

The blonde only smiled lopsidedly and shrugged in a lofty way, turning back to the bearded man with a gentle punch to the shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure there's a lot of things we can all do out there together," he reassured, "let's just hope we can actually get there."

Ken pursed his bottom lip for a moment, eyes sliding over to Cry in an almost accusing manner. Their gazes met briefly, and Cry could've sworn he saw... What was it? Anger? Flare up in those dark irises. But as Cry tried to decipher the emotion, it left as quick as it came, and the bigger gamer gave a small smile and a slight nod. "Yeah. Of course." Backing up, he threw a thumb over his shoulder. "We should really start gathering things up if we wanna get there before all the flights leave, though. C'mon."

Pewdie followed after him, whistling a catchy tune as he purposefully stomped through the mud. The brown muck soared through the air and, as if his day wasn't already bad, splattered all across the bottom of Cry's jeans.

With a sigh, the brunette began to trail sluggishly behind, not caring about the gross soil anymore as he trudged back to the cabin.

* * *

An hour later, Cry was nearly at his wit's end. In the time it took to carry three bags of necessities back to the car, Ken had tripped him twice and spilled half a container of black coffee all over Cry's shoes, forcing the shorter man to take them off, wash them, and unhappily put them back on soaked so he could resume packing. He _knew _Ken had something against him, but for the life of him couldn't figure out _why._

It was in the midst of their final bags to pack that Cry had pulled Pewdie aside while Ken was outside, leading him into the small hallway. Once stopped, Cry let go of the lanky blonde's arm and crossed him arms, frown in place. "What's up with him?" He asked.

"Who?" Pewdie questioned, blinking.

Cry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Who else? "Ken," he answered, looking at the doorway. He wasn't back yet. "He's been acting weird since I woke up. Like, giving me weird looks and dumping stuff on me. What is his deal?"

Pewdie shrugged, smiling. "Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he's just not sure how to react to seeing you after so long! You probably look a lot different. Don't worry about it."

Cry chuckled dryly. "No, you don't understand, he's-"

"Hey," came a deep, curious voice, "what are you guys doing over there? We got almost everything we need, I say let's just go." Ken walked inside and folded his arms, gaze darting between the two other gamers. He raised an eyebrow as he watched Cry shuffle around a bit, the brunette coughing into a fist. "What?"

"Cry wants to know why, uhm... Why you're acting weird," Pewdie supplied, his own voice unsure. "That's what he thinks, anyways." The blonde laughed a bit, rolling his shoulders in another small shrug.

Ken, to everyone's surprise, clenched his fists as his jaw set tightly. He turned to Cry almost calmly, and sighed as he tried his best to relax. "Ryan," he started pleasantly, making the brunette cringe, "remember that conversation we had a year ago? Just before that one livestream?"

Cry stiffened. Of course he remembered. It was the day that Ken admitted his feelings for the blonde, as did Cry. They got in an argument, but eventually decided that they wouldn't get jealous if Pewdie actually ended up liking one of them. "I guess I forgot till now," he muttered, looking away. He hadn't thought of that till now.

Ken had snickered then, shifting his feet. "It shouldn't really matter now, though, right? I... _Guess_ I can tell Pewds just how much you hate him now, huh?" He smiled, but Cry saw the burning jealousy in the bearded man's eyes. The selfishness.

"What?" Pewdie piped up, face clouded over with confusion. His gaze flickered between Cry and Ken, eyebrows pulled together in concern. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't want to have to tell you, but Cry over here really just doesn't like you. At all. All those times that you would send him messages about playing together? He would complain for _hours_ about how he didn't want to do it. He would always say, 'If that fans like it, I guess I can live through it'." The dark haired man grinned maliciously, but the edge to it told that he was regretful. "Right now I can guarantee he's using you so that he gets what he wants. He'd throw you to the zombies in a heartbeat. Always knew he didn't give a shit about you, but this? Tsk, Ryan. Tsk."

Cry had pushed past Pewdie then, taking a few steps towards Ken. "Liar! Take those words back!"

"Why should I take back something that's true?" Ken replied, smile fading. "You would always go into so much detail about how much you _hated_ Felix-"

"Stop!" The brunette yelled, desperately trying to get the other man to give in. "Stop lying! I never said any of that!"

Suddenly, a warm weight had gently came down on Cry's shoulder. "Cry... Why would you..?" He trailed off, voice shaking.

In that moment, Cry's anger faded completely, and he turned to face the shocked and saddened Swede. "Pewds... Don't believe him, okay? I'd never do any of that, I.." He bit his lip, feelings soaring through his chest in an attempt to break free.

"Cry, he already knows now. Don't even try," Ken spoke, voice even.

But Cry wasn't paying attention. All he could see was that pretty face and those beautiful eyes swimming in tears and _god_ he needed to do something quick, to show how much he actually cared for the blonde. His internal battle finally ended as decided what he would do and dammit, here it goes, here goes every feeling he's ever had since they met on that stupid zombie game, every laugh, every late night conversation-

The room went silent as Ken's jaw dropped in disbelief, Pewdie's eyes flew open wide, and Cry unleashed every pent up emotion he's ever felt for the Swedish man.

He kissed him.

* * *

_Cliff hanger hehehehehehe, I'm back btw from a long hiatus and I'm ready to write! Also sorry if the ending is bad lol /hides in shame/ and sorry for making Ken so evil but i needed to ok_

_R&R you lovely people! c':_


	5. The Differences

**Thicker Than Blood**

_Things stir up around here! Thanks so much for the love on this story! You guys are the best -kissesnhugs-_

* * *

Time seemed to freeze as Cry pressed his lips to Pewdie's, on his very tippy-toes and struggling to hold balance. As expected, the blonde was unmoving, mouth parted slightly as he gazed down at his friend in utter shock. Cry finally pulled away a few seconds later, the determination in his eyes slowly melting as he finally realized his actions.

He shouldn't have done that. It was too early.

"What-" Pewdie started, but was cut off as Ken suddenly stormed from the cabin and swung the door so far back that it smacked against the wall with a loud 'clack'. The Swede flinched, and turned to watch the bigger man flee from the small house.

Cry was dead silent. His hands trembled and his jaw locked, fear overcoming him as Pewdie took in the scene. So... Cry was a traitor. Cry kissed him. Ken ran away. What wasn't confusing here? Pewdie was at a loss for words.

"I didn't... Uh..." Pewdie began again, slim hand coming up to touch the back of his neck in a habitual manner, "Didn't know you felt that way." He tried a smile, but only managed to look nothing other than _awkward_ as he stood there with a flushed face and still-wet eyes.

Cry still said nothing. The silence drowned them out, curled around their bodies like a snake ensnaring its prey as Pewds stared at Cry, and Cry stared at the floor. "I'm sorry.." He mumbled, voice like a ghost.

Pewdie blinked, leaning in closer. "Huh?"

Cry shook his head, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he still continued to bore holes into the ground. "I'm so sorry I did that, I didn't mean to. I-... I have to go." He looked up just enough to see where he was going, and without a second thought escaped from the door before another word from Pewdie was uttered. Of course, that didn't last long.

"Cry... Cry wait!" He heard from inside the shack, but clenched his eyes shut tighter and grit his teeth as the tears began to slide down his face. "Cry, don't go!"

'_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' _ his mind began to chant over and over like a mantra, legs working fast as he stumbled and tripped over the terrain in his haste to get away. He had to leave, he had to leave, he had to _leave_-

Before he knew it, the scenery around him had changed and so did the road; which had begun to look more aged the further he walked. He didn't dare turn back though, not till he cooled off and started to think again. Pewdie didn't feel the same way. He had fucking _Marzia _dammit, why the hell did he try something so idiotic? To prove a point that he could've just as easily done with words? The thought alone was enough to make the brunette facepalm.

"I'm such a moron," he muttered to himself, jamming his hands into his pockets as he continued to walk. "I can't go back, he probably better off with Ken anyways." Liar or not, Ken loved Pewdie just as much as Cry did. Probably more, but that could've just been his possession talking. Ken never liked to share much.

As he wandered even further away, the orange sky began to turn a darker color; closer to red than anything. It was most likely past noon now, early evening at most. And Cry still hadn't turned back. He wasn't going to. The blonde was most likely with that two-faced asshole and already on his way to the airport, close to safety and probably might get a vaccination to help fight against the disease.

_'Good,'_ the brunette thought. '_As long as he's safe, then I'm happy. Maybe he'll find his girlfriend there.'_ There it was again. That thought that made his heart clench in the most painful of ways. Not even the thought of him being with Ken affected him as much. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, took a deep breath, opened them again and began to walk faster.

OOOO

It was around late evening that Cry finally reached a mile-marker, signaling that a small town was only a half mile away. Spurred by the thought of resting his aching legs, Cry had started a slow jog towards what was a tiny, unmarked ghost town. Scary as it was, Cry was less worried about strange town-people than he was about what else could have been prowling the abandoned little civilization.

"God," the brunette whispered under his breath as he finally came across what was apparently marked as 'Demville', eyes gazing all across the ugly scrap of land. The buildings were rotting away, windows were busted, road eroded away to nothing but chips of brittle concrete and slabs of bloodied sidewalk. "The fallout really hit this place hard."

Taking a cautious step forward, Cry was careful not to make too much noise as he began to explore Demville and it's lonely contents. He took note of the gas station that looked utterly destroyed, the small school that wasn't as bad but definitely nothing close to decent, and the houses that were depressing to just be near. A warehouse at the very edge of town seemed to be the only place that hadn't been completely demolished, and it was only reasonable that Cry would take refuge in there for the night.

Cry sighed and rounded another corner, feeling slightly more exhausted than usual. _'Maybe a quick nap before I go around looking for things to-' _ His thought was cut short as a strangled gasp flew from his lips, eyes resting on another diseased woman that was hunched over a corpse... A human corpse. The fear boiled high in Cry throat as the zombie stopped it's messy eating to slowly look up, dead milky eyes scanning the brunette. Strangely, it only looked back down and continued to eat, though was now acutely aware of Cry's presence.

_'It's not attacking me,' _Cry thought frantically. '_But it knows I'm here. It's too busy. Leave!' _And he planned to do just that, spinning on his heel and taking a few quick steps away.

The infected woman snarled, current meal almost fully forgotten. Cry turned his head to watch it stand up, swaying heavily as it's head snapped from side to side in a violent manner. It was almost as if it was deciding whether or not to advance or continue eating, but wasn't given much of a choice as a shot rang clear through the air and the creature toppled forwards almost instantly.

Cry jumped back, head twisting around as he found the source of the gunshot with wide eyes.

A boy- who couldn't be past the age of fourteen- stood several feet away with a shotgun held in his hands. His gray sweatshirt was dirtier than Cry's own, as well as his pants and backwards baseball cap. "W-Who are you?" He asked and fixed Cry with a glare, voice stern and laced with a heavy southern accent.

Cry only gawked, because how could someone so _young_ be handling a gun like that.. On his _own?_

"Ah said," the boy began louder, "_who _in the _blazes _are you?" The boy was nervous, if the way he shook was any indication. "Ah... Ah'll shoot ya where ya stand, mister... Don't- don't think Ah won't!" And his shaking arms rose again, one eye squinted shut as he aimed Cry down.

The brunette suddenly jumped then, raising and waving his arms in panic. "Wait, wait! I'm not an enemy! My name is Cry, I'm.. I'm from around here."

The teen relaxed visibly, slowly lowering the weapon but certainly not dropping his guard. He gave Cry a quick once over, and then fixed him with a small frown. "Ain't seen ya 'round. Travelin'?" There was a pause. "You've got an unusual name."

Cry laughed then, but it was a shaky and tight-lipped laugh. "My actual name is Ryan," he explained, "but everyone just usually calls me Cry."

"Uh huh," the boy said, "but what'cha doin' out 'round here? We ain't got no cars or no gas, ain't got any cell-service either for miles away." The teen stepped closer, let his dirt-covered face come into view. His hair was short and dark, and he had a rounded freckled face with dark brown eyes. It reminded Cry of his younger brother when they were kids. "Ya look like ya need a good rest, bags under yer eyes are pretty ugly lookin'." The kid pulled a face then, something close to a grimace. Cry reached up to touch self-consciously at them, but the stranger continued. "Y'all can stay here... But there's not much beddin' to sleep on."

Cry could honestly care less about that. Sleep was sleep, and he supposed passing out on a table wasn't really the best way to get it. "I had a pretty uncomfortable night."

"Guess so," the boy replied, nodding a bit as he stepped back. Raising his weapon, he slung the gun over one shoulder and beckoned Cry to follow him with one hand. "Well tonight it'll be better, the old motel's been in somewhat of a good shape since this place turned into a garbage dump. Ah'll admit though, gets a bit lonely after a while."

"It's only you here?"

The kid shrugged, though his eyes were sad. "Yup. Ever since that stupid plague hit. S'weird, ain't it? How some people are immune to it. Mah sisters weren't though, neither was mah ma 'n pa. Guess that's how it was s'posed to be." He sighed.

Cry's heart squeezed again, not from sadness, but sympathy. He knew how that felt. "We've all lost something close to us."

The teen said nothing. It a few more moments of complete silence before he spoke again, raising his free arm to point at a shady looking building just ahead of them. "Motel's over there, ain't the best but it'll do. It's nice to see another good face 'round here." He smiled faintly.

Cry nodded, smiling back and offering a hand to the shorter boy. "Thanks. Will I see you again?"

"A'course!" He reached out to grasp Cry's hand, shaking it firmly. "I stay there too, ya know. Only good place here to sleep and feel safe 'round. And since Ah haven't seen anybody for God knows how long..."

Cry laughed and began to wander towards the motel, but spun around with a small 'Oh!'. "Almost forgot, but what's your name? I don't think you've told me yet."

The boy smiled again, this time more happily as he repositioned to gun on his shoulder. "Name's Casey Berkman, but ya can just call me Case."

* * *

_Casey is not a mary-sue, female, or won't be paired in any way (ew too young) to anyone, just a filler character. c: Also it's a lame chapter, but what shall happen next? Oh my! R&R! -hugsnkisses-_


	6. Who?

**Thicker Than Blood**

_Thanks for being patient guys. (: School is a hectic part of my life, as of late._

_Anyways, here's chapter six!_

* * *

It was early in the morning when Cry woke up, _too early_. The kind of early that makes you think birds would be chirping, annoying rays of sunshine would be beating you in the eyes and a bright alarm clock would be greeting you with the time of 7:30 A.M. Instead, the brunette woke with the sight of a mildew-stained ceiling, light brown skies and the smell of a dusty, ratty old pillowcase.

Sitting up slowly, Cry groaned and reached to rub at his aching shoulder. '_Suppose the ground would've been more pleasant than this piece of crap mattress,_' he thought bitterly, scooting a bit closer to the edge of the bed. As his legs swung freely over the ground, Cry let himself close his eyes and just think. Think about yesterday, the kiss, his cowardice, Casey-everything. "God," he croaked, pinching the bridge of his nose. '_What's wrong with me?_'

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Cry didn't hear the click of the doorknob, or the whoosh of air as someone opened his door.

"Awake yet?" A timid voice asked.

A sudden rush of fear shot through Cry's veins as he flinched harshly, turning to face the source of sound with wide, panicked eyes. Expecting a walking pile of rotting flesh, Cry was met with brown eyes, suspenders and a worried face. Instantly the fear began to drain, only to be replaced with growing anger and frustration as Casey's face morphed from concern to amusement faster than Cry thought possible.

"Jumpy, ain't ya mister?" The boy giggled, opening the door further to reveal a box of something the gamer suspected was food. Stepping closer, Casey lifted the carton of _something_, and wiggled it before tossing at the brunette.

Startled, much like he had two days previous, Cry failed in attempted to catch the box and only succeeded in swatting it to the floor. Both stared down at the box, before Cry lifted his green eyes and looked back at the teen with the most sheepish look he could muster. "Hah.. Sorry, you kinda-"

"Scared ya? Ah know. Just a sissy, huh?" Casey grinned, bending down to grab the carton and once again toss it towards Cry, this time with it landing on the bed near the brunette other than it being flung to the ground. Miffed by the taller man's scowl, Casey tilted his head and blinked a few times in his innocence. "Why so glum lookin', Ryan?"

Cry sighed, already feeling his patience wear incredibly thin. Not only was the boy thick with his Southern drawl, but he was a _kid_ and Cry didn't like _kids._ Why couldn't he have just walked away yesterday? What held him back? And _why _was he using his real name? "Nothing," he muttered, shrugging as if to prove his point. "Tired... What are these things?" He gestured to the box that sat right beside him, beige and unlabelled. It looked oddly suspicious.

"Them? Just some military rations m'brother brought in just in case of a virus break out... Ain't it just ironic?" Casey smiled, but it was another sad one. "I got a lot of 'em. Bout twenty boxes or so. Ah only use one or two a day."

Sighing, Cry extended a hand to the box and unwillingly drew it near. "Legit rations?" He asked, shaking the carton. It rattled, and suddenly the brunette wanted to see what was inside. Peeling back the flaps at the top, Cry fished out a few packets of makeshift soup, crackers, bread, and dried fruits. Eyeing them all with disdain, Cry opted for the bread and opened that package's seal.

Casey beamed. "Legit! Mah brother was a _real_ Marine!" Seemingly unaware of Cry's bad mood and disinterest towards the food, the boy went on. "He was so strong too, he could'a prolly killed all'a these zombies with just his fists!" Continuing to smile, Casey fished out a few freeze-dried apricots from his own bag, and popped them into his mouth.

Cry sniffed, biting into the bread he noticed was surprisingly _not stale._ "He seemed like a pretty tough guy, huh?"

"The toughest," Casey replied, finishing what was left in the packet of fruit before getting to his feet. He grabbed the rest of what he had left to eat and stuffed it into the box, resealing it as he casually tucked it under his arm. "Bet he would'a been proud of me for lastin' this long, too. He never really thought of me as a responsible bro, but Ah'll show him." With a quick glance towards the ceiling, Casey huffed out a quick little sigh and spun on his heel, making his way out Cry's room.

"Oh, uh, hey! Case, wait a sec!" Cry fumbled with the covers and food wrappings for a second, flinging them out of the way as he got to his feet.

Blinking, the teen turned around. "Yeah, Cry?"

Inhaling, the brunette ran a hand through his hair. '_Gently, don't push the subject._' "I might have to leave later on today." '_Smooth._'

Casey dropped his friendly smile then, eyebrows pulling together as his frown became easily visible. "But- Ah thought- ... Why?" Was all the smaller brunette could manage.

'_Shit._' Cry swallowed thickly then, heat rising to his face as he flushed in nothing but utter shame. As much as he'd like to stay, he really couldn't- Not with Pewdie out there, possibly with that _asshole_ or getting eaten by nasty undead people. "I-I kinda... Hurt someone, and I.. Well... I need to find them," he explained softly, hoping not to upset the kid too much. "Sorry I didn't say anything sooner."

"Ah see," Casey mumbled, looking down. "Well... Alright then, y'all can leave whenever ya want to." And before Cry could reply, the boy rushed out of the room and swiftly closed the door behind him.

"Kids," Cry hissed quietly, turning back around. Now he felt even more like a jackass. Why didn't he just leave and not tell Casey he left, anyways? Was it out of pity or something? '_He lost his entire family, Cry. Try and be a little more compassionate.' _ "Not my issue," Cry grumbled, angrily shoving his trash back into the little tan box as he continued. "Freakin' zombies, freakin' Pewds, Ken, _urggghhh!_" Feeling a sudden wave of anger, Cry balled his hands into fists, throwing them into that same dirty pillowcase. One punch led to two, two four, and four until he lost count and his arms ached with exertion. Panting, the brunette looked down and stared at his reddened knuckles, chest heaving and eyes fogging. '_Don't cry, man. Just calm down, grab your stuff and go._' With a sharp inhale, Cry relaxed his hands and resumed packing his garbage away.

OOOO

It was late in the morning - - atleast Cry assumed it was, if that gross-coloured sky gave any indication- and the brunette was already leaving the motel, rations and drain pipe in hand. Obviously for protection reasons, and a pipe was better than nothing, if he remembered correctly. There were goddamn zombies crawling around, man! He edged down the mottled parking lot, eyes scanning for anything potentially threatening. "Still gives me the creeps," Cry whispered to himself, something to save him from the eerie sweeps of wind and dead silence. Moving forwards, Cry kept his eyes peeled and drain pipe clutched painfully tight between his wary fingers. How long had he been outside? Two minutes? Sighing, Cry rolled his shoulders and tried to relax. '_Okay, if there was anything out here, you would've been dead by now. Baby steps, don't make too much noise, keep your eyes on the-'_

"CRY!" A loud, guttural yell sounded from somewhere behind the gamer, sounds of feet plodding against the pebbles and dirt. "Cry, wait up!"

Flinching and nearly having his heart leap out of his chest for the second time that day, Cry turned back to watch Casey bound towards him with one hand raised. It took a moment before he actually caught up, doubling over to brace his knees as he panted harshly. "Hey... Could Ah maybe... Come with ya..?" He asked between breaths, slowly standing up straight again and catching his breath. He smiled apologetically. "Sorry 'bout earlier, it's just... Ah thought'cha were stayin' and all. But is it okay if Ah come with? It's awful lonesome here..." His dark brown eyes stared into Cry's own green ones, hopeful and pleading.

Cry sighed. What the hell, why not? "Sure, I don't care. Just make sure you don't get yourself killed or anything, okay?"

Casey laughed. "Ah've been here for months and Ah haven't died yet. That's gotta tell ya somethin'." With a friendly smile, the boy tossed a thumb over his back; putting it to Cry's attention that he wore two guns slung over his shoulder and a large, stuffed schoolbag. "Got stuff for the road too, see? All set!" He smiled widely again, and set off on the road that Cry had been cautiously tiptoeing earlier.

Cry only blanched, watching Casey as the boy marched happily down the marred street. Unsurely he caught up, food and makeshift weapon now being held embarrassedly to his sides. "What's in your backpack?" He asked, eyeing the most likely heavy bag as Casey seemed to carry it with no effort at all.

"Food and ammo," the boy replied, not taking his eyes off the road. "Gotta be prepared, right?"

Cry sighed, slouching a bit as he prepared for the uncomfortable hike ahead. "Right."

It was a few painful hours of listening to Casey's blabbering and road trip singing before Cry was ready to rip his ears off, stomp on them, and walk away. There was honestly nothing wrong with Case, in fact Cry was a bit fond of him despite himself, but after hearing the same story five times over and a few 'On the Road Again' verses, anything- even the sound of tires squealing- would have been acceptable.

"And then Ah almost tripped and could'a broke Mah own _neck_!" To prove his point, Casey added wild hand gestures around his throat and wide, wide eyes.

"Uh huh," Cry groaned, rubbing at his face with the back of his hand. "Glad you're okay, though."

The boy shook his head, still in the heat of the topic. "Man, if on my friend pushed me a few feet farther... Hey, Cry," He suddenly interrupted himself, squinting as he pointed the a speck in the distance. "Reckon your friend is in that cabin over yonder?"

Feeling some kind of giddiness rise in his throat, Cry turned and squinted as well, eyeing the cabin that looked all too familiar. "Maybe," he replied, reaching out to grasp Case's wrist. "Come on, let's go check it out."

As he pulled the other boy along, it only took the span of ten minute to reach the cabin, and even less to rush into the tiny building and frantically look around for Pewdie. Checking the bathroom, he found nothing but bottles of used toiletries, obviously old and empty. Rushing outside, Cry scoped the bushes that encircled the shack, the cattails, _everything_ in his haste to find Pewdie- and came up empty handed. "Pewdie!" He would call, eventually pulling Casey into the act with him as they both cupped their mouths and called for the Swedish man as if he were a lost pet.

Eventually Casey gave, up and sighed, swinging his arms under him like dead weight as he slouched over. "It's no use, Cry!" He whined, looking up at his taller companion. "Maybe we should look somewhere else."

"No," Cry snapped, stomping back into the cabin. "He has to be here... He was here yesterday." Pushing the door open, Cry scoped the apartment-like interior for the second time. Everything, he noted, was left behind. The bags in the corner were still there from when Cry pulled Pewdie aside to confront about Ken, the mattress and sheets were still bunched and wrinkled, and Pewdie's empty ravioli can still sat on the nightstand. '_So then... Where did he go?'_ Just as he was about to look further, a startled 'Cry!' broke the brunette man out of his search. Rushing out the cabin, Cry was met with the stunned and frantic face of Casey. "What?"

"Ah know where your friend went!" The boy said, standing up from where he crouched over a wide set of tire trucks, obviously belonging to a large vehicle. "The LSG found 'em!"

"Who?" Cry asked, eyebrows pulling together.

"The Lost Survivor Group, a bunch'a no good hoodrats who created a religion based on themselves! They find survivors and hail them to their Gods!" Casey scratched at his arms, looking overly nervous. "They came into Mah town lookin' for goods and people to snatch up, but luckily Ah was able to hide from 'em."

"So they took him to become part of their religion, then?" Cry asked, feeling extremely dumb.

Casey shook his head. "No, they're going ta use their Bibles and perform acts of the unholy on 'em for their deities and self-renewal!"

Surprised the kid even knew such large words, Cry was still lost. "I... I don't understand."

"Cry," Casey said, low and serious, "they're going to kill him!"

* * *

_Dun dun DUUUN! I like this chapter c: RnR, please~_


End file.
